At the Movies: 'The film doesn't resort to scatological toilet humour'
The film doesn't resort to scatological toilet humour
It’s pretty easy to reverse engineer the Hollywood elevator pitch for this film about four female friends going on a (mostly) accidental rampage at a wellness resort.
It’s clearly ‘Bridesmaids’ meets ‘The Hangover’.
It’s no coincidence either because this new comedy proudly boasts it’s from the writers of the latter on its poster.
Jon Lucas and Scott Moore are co-writers and co-directors so they get to share the blame or acclaim in equal measure.
Factor in the fact that this very same team created a more minor hit in the shape of the Mila Kunis starring ‘Bad Moms’ and you can’t evade the reality that these guys aren’t re-inventing the wheel.
Perhaps it’s kinder to say they have a wheelhouse they operate in and since it’s been a lucrative sweet spot, who can really blame them?
As for the four friends, the ostensible leader of the group is single mom Jane (Leslie Mann) who somehow crams a legal career around her child-raising duties.
This leaves no room for romance or dating at all.
Elsewhere on the same scale, newly separated Coco (Michelle Buteau) is a powder keg of anger towards her ex.
Coco is literally boiling with frustration because her former partner has already shacked up with another woman.
Then there’s Sophie (Anna Faris) who is run ragged as an inundated and stressed personal assistant to a millionaire in LA.
Tending to an ultra-wealthy wally’s every whim barely gives Sophie time to breathe.
These three decide to take a break from the rat race by booking the titular spa weekend.
The trio all have trouble getting away but they fight for their right to relax.
It’s this mutual desire for a chill time that means they purposefully exclude their wildest hedonistic gal pal Mel (Isla Fisher) from the trip. But then Mel rocks up to crash the slumber party anyway and hilarity ensues.
Or at least that’s the plan.
We all know the kind of ‘bull in a china shop’ character Isla is meant to be depicting but this crucial role feels undercooked and underwritten to me.
Judging by the bloopers in the end credits, there was plenty of room left for improvisation on this set.
However, to my mind this method of working excels when the actors have the foundation of a great script beneath them.
So, Mel talking through a guided meditation sounds fun on paper but in reality, the scene is obvious and remains flat.
Similarly, the introduction of baby goats to a yoga scene was clearly meant to spark something but the fuse stays firmly unlit.
There’s also a recurring joke about Coco taking verbal volleys against the advanced age of her estranged husband’s new squeeze.
It’s rarely funny but boy, the jibes keep coming regardless.
More successful is Jane’s tender and surprisingly engaging fling with a hotel masseur.
Played with open vulnerability by Leslie Mann, this burgeoning relationship is dismissed by Jane before she gives it a proper chance.
Weirdly this film is not a romantic comedy but it’s this coy courtship that proves the most successful story thread.
I also have to give the film credit for not resorting to scatological toilet humour.
Sure, there’s a playful fight in a mud bath but in the main the film wisely stays away from gross out crudity.
I feared the worst when one character mused that champagne made her fart but thankfully there was no subsequent follow up about this potentially gas situation.
Overall. ‘Spa Weekend’ crawls in for a cautious recommendation.
If you want to be as easy going as the pampered characters onscreen, you will probably enjoy it.
In massage terms though, it’s more of a superficial tickle than a deep tissue manipulation of the funny bone.
